


Invitations

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A Variety of Efforts Made, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Oral Sex, Slight Body Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19343788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: For the otd Good Omens prompt meme, and a request for Crowley being open about his interest, Aziraphale declining-- kindly-- only to reconsider after the church.





	Invitations

    He'd been shocked, that first time... had pulled back and asked what Crowley was doing, and Crowley had done his best to recover the situation with good grace. 'My mistake', he'd said, and Aziraphale had gone all pink when he'd explained why he'd made that mistake, and said he'd never. Never had any sort of... carnal desires, or even carnal bits to desire with.

 

    It was sweet, honestly. Crowley'd have liked to have fucked him, yes, but... thinking back, he's glad thinking Aziraphale had valued his company, had wanted to share an experience with him, even if it wasn't the one he was expecting. They became friends after that, real ones. Not just two beings who knew each other to talk to, but honest friends.

 

    And Crowley had said 'if you change your mind', and Aziraphale had accepted that. Had smiled with a more-than-angelic warmth and said he'd be the first to know, but that he didn't think it likely.

 

    Every now and then, Crowley made an offer. Idle and friendly, never expecting Aziraphale to say yes. But it was part of things. Like a little private joke between them. If the topic came up, or if one of them mentioned temptation in a general sense, Crowley would say something and Aziraphale would...

 

    He'd give him that smile, and he'd shake his head as if to say 'oh, you', and they'd let it go until next time. Once, over lunch, Crowley had asked, and... and it had felt _real_. It never felt real before, not in the same way. Oh, he always _wanted_... He always wanted to have something, and he always thought Aziraphale interesting, but a _want_ isn't a _need_. He'd very nearly reached across the table and taken Aziraphale's hand, and asked him in all earnestness if he would, now. It would have spoiled things, if he'd done... So he'd teased, and tried to ignore the way the feelings inside of him squirmed, fresh and new.

 

    He made the offers less, after that. And then...

 

    _Fraternizing_ , what was that supposed to mean? All this time and all these... all these things they've said and done and not done, and... and what was he supposed to think about that? How was he supposed to feel? How _is_ he supposed to feel?

 

    So he'd done the adult, mature thing, and he hadn't spoken to Aziraphale for eighty years, most of which he'd spent sleeping.

 

    And now, and now, and now...

 

    And now he is sitting in his car, with an angel, and he doesn't know what to say about the past, so he hasn't said anything, but Aziraphale... Aziraphale is Aziraphale is Aziraphale, and he looks as he's always looked, and he smiles, his bag in his lap and both hands folded around the handle, and they're stopped in front of his shop but he doesn't move to go...

 

    Crowley gets out of the car instead, and opens the passenger-side door for him, in case he'd been waiting.

 

    "Oh-- thank you, dear." Aziraphale says, with a little look of surprise, of delight. "I-- That is-- It's a lovely car."

 

    "Yeah. Woke up and they'd been invented. Finally, right?"

 

    "Woke up?" Aziraphale steps out onto the pavement. "How long were you asleep?"

 

    "Long enough." He shrugs and looks away. "Coming on eighty years, I suppose."

 

    "Oh." His voice is so soft, and his hand reaches out, Crowley turns at the movement and sees it hesitate at his arm, fingertips just brushing his sleeve. "Will you come in?"

 

    "In... in your home?" Crowley falters. He should, perhaps, have said 'shop', but it's the same thing. He's been in the shop, the shop-shop. He'd even peeked in on the little back area, but... Aziraphale isn't inviting him in to stand around while he reshelves his books. This is... different.

 

    "I should-- I should offer you a drink, at least. To thank you. Or-- to avoid thanking you. I mean, you know what I mean!" His shoulders rise and fall in a dramatic little huff, at the limitations of language to work around the rules they make for themselves. Crowley does his best to respect Aziraphale's rules, Aziraphale does his best to respect Crowley's. "I want to. Coffee, or tea, if you like. Or... I could open a bottle of wine?"

 

    "All right." Crowley nods.

 

    The shop is even more crowded with books than he remembers it. He follows Aziraphale back, and Aziraphale motions for him to take the comfortable armchair, taking the desk chair for himself.

 

    "I should consider more cozy seating, if-- if you think you might become a regular guest." His smile is hopeful, and he summons the bottle of wine to his hand, the glasses. "What do you think?"

 

    "I think you've space for it. You could put a settee just here if you moved your chair over by that shelf." Crowley nods, watching Aziraphale's smile grow. "I could, if you don't mind having me."

 

    "Nonsense. I-- I've missed you." Aziraphale glances down, turns to his desk to pour out two glasses of wine. He hands one over, fingertips brushing against Crowley's in the hand-off, and then he pulls back again to reshelve his books here with his private collection, back to him. To think... an angel, relaxed, with his back to a demon. "I didn't know if I would see you again. Or if you were... avoiding me."

 

    "Just taking a nap. Come on, angel, you'd... you'd never get rid of me that easily." He says, and it's... that's what people say, isn't it? Sometimes? It's a joke, and yet Aziraphale's shoulders come up hard in a flinch, his head ducks forward, and the _sound_ he makes, almost too quiet to hear... "Did I say something wrong?"

 

    He turns, and makes no attempt whatsoever to hide the anguish on his features. "What you asked of me-- What could have happened to you. I didn't know if I would see you again. I didn't know if you were even-- And so I chose to believe you didn't ask anyone else, and that you hated me, that you-- that you went somewhere. That you didn't try to get your hands on-- _that_. That you were safe, and you hated me, and you were alive."

 

    "I'm alive. I'm safe. I've never hated you."

 

    "Do you... do you still--?" He bites his lip. "If I-- if I changed my mind?"

 

    "About... _that_?" He leans forward.

 

    "No." Aziraphale says quickly. "Crowley, I can't-- I mean us. I mean... offers, that you've made, and I've always said no, what if-- what if I don't want to say no anymore?"

 

    "Don't." He leans back again, looks away. "This isn't something I want you to agree to over wine."

 

    "I haven't touched my wine. You've asked me over wine before."

 

    "Yes, because you always say no. It's-- it's the rush, it's the danger. We could have been discorporated and we weren't, and so you're..."

 

    "I could have been discorporated in Paris. And you asked me then. And I said no. This... I've _missed_ you."

 

    "You don't need to fuck me to keep me! I mean-- I mean, I don't want you to think I only hang about you because I want something. I--"

 

    "I know that. You've... you've always been-- Crowley, I've _missed you_. I've been _lonely_. And I've gone out, I've talked to other people, I've... I've joined clubs and taken classes and gone to events and everywhere I go and everything I do... I think how much more I'd like it if I was sharing it with you. And... when I thought you might never speak to me again, when I could go by all your favorite places and never see you, I-- I don't know. It's not that I've been miserable all the time. It's not that there's no sun without you. But sometimes I'll be having a lovely time and suddenly the world stops around me and I look to the place you're not. And then... it starts up again, I carry on, a little sadder. And now you're here, and you've been so wonderful, and I want to."

 

    "Demons are not wonderful." He grumbles, and tries to caution his softening heart. He wants to, he's always... it's always been a thought. He's always wanted, but...

 

    But this is love.

 

    " _I_ wonder at you." Aziraphale smiles. "You don't want to hear it... I don't have to say the rest."

 

    "No-- you can."

 

    "I'd best not." His smile fades. "It's a good deal worse than 'thank you', I'm afraid. But I can say it without words, can't I? I can show you... how I value your company, and how grateful I am? And how I have missed you?"

 

    "Well..." Crowley's resolve crumbles to dust. "Do you own a bed?"

 

    "I do."

 

    "Is it big enough for the both of us?" He continues, setting his glasses aside.

 

    "If I can find a place to put the books."

 

    "Down here's fine." Crowley rises. Of course Aziraphale uses his bed for book storage... He hesitates just a moment, before winding his arms around Aziraphale, bending him to a kiss. Feeling the way Aziraphale's reserve melts at his touch, the way he gives in... All those years of refusals, had he always wanted to permit himself to say yes? Or was it the rescue, or the loneliness? Why _now_?

 

    It doesn't matter why now. It just matters that Aziraphale is in his arms, that he is completely his. He holds nothing back now that they've begun. Crowley had worried that he would pull back, but he isn't, not at all. He's holding on tight, learning quickly how to kiss back...

 

    He doesn't hesitate a moment as Crowley begins to undress him, just kisses him, kisses him, whispers praise for every touch that sends Crowley's heart soaring.

 

    "Angel... I'm going to need you to, erm... pick something." Crowley pants, toying with the waistband of Aziraphale's underwear.

 

    "What do you mean pick something?"

 

    "I mean... if you haven't started sporting regular genitalia since the last time we spoke about it, pick something now."

 

    "Oh. Er... is there a particular direction I should... go in?"

 

    "Anything you like. Or first one and then the other, if you want to figure out a preference. Start with what comes easiest to you."

 

    Aziraphale nods, and presses close to Crowley, and kisses him again, and sighs into his mouth, and when Crowley finishes undressing him, he's sporting a cock, still soft but... fat, flushed all rosy.

 

    "Oh!" Aziraphale stifles a laugh at himself, looking down at it. "It's, erm... rather..."

 

    "Lovely." Crowley sinks to his knees. With a thought, his own clothes are gone as well.

 

    "Floppy."

 

    " _Tempting_." He purrs. "Like a ripe, juicy piece of fruit that's begging for me to take a bite."

 

    "I don't think the word 'bite' is very encouraging right now..." Aziraphale says, but his cock is jerking to life at the thought, at least. Crowley breathes him in a moment, and kisses the crease of his hip. Strings kisses low along the soft curve of his belly. Feels the heat of his building arousal. He gives his belly a nip while he's at it, and feels the answering upward twitch somewhere in the vicinity of his chin. " _Oh_ , Crowley!"

 

    "What's that you were saying about ' _bite_ '?" Crowley grins, and sinks down to take Aziraphale into his mouth.

 

    "Oh, _Crowley_..."

 

    He pulls off, much as he's not keen to, so that he can move Aziraphale to the armchair. "Here-- before your knees buckle, from what I'm about to do to you."

 

    He gets his mouth back around Aziraphale, feeling him grow firmer. Not much larger, but... a little. Just right, as far as Crowley is concerned, and he teases with his tongue, and sucks, and lets the saliva gather and run down his chin. He guides Aziraphale's hands to his hair with a hum, and Aziraphale is quick to ruffle his formerly sleek and neat side-part into something wild, to massage at his scalp and to gently tug anything long enough to be tugged... to share the pleasure of the experience back, to touch.

 

    It doesn't take long, but if they can do this, if they can keep doing this, they'll do better. For a first time, it's not bad at all, Crowley doesn't think. Not that he'd know, but he's masturbated, he knows stamina is something you pick up over time, he knows a first effort can be overwhelming.

 

    "Do you want to try the other way? I mean-- not-- I mean, did you want to put that effort in another direction?" He asks, and watches Aziraphale's already-flushed face go a deeper pink, watches the sparkle in his eyes and the smile that comes over him.

 

    "If you like." He nods, and looks so pleased it's as if Crowley had saved his life all over again.

 

    He watches with great interest as Aziraphale shifts his position and makes the change, watches the way his cock and balls melt back into himself, the way thick folds form themselves, as if an unseen sculptor is fashioning him from clay, making deep furrows, creating soft shapes, building a little well in the center, opening up the core of him... Crowley had been able to make his own arousal a distant second priority to Aziraphale's pleasure, but actually watching him design himself is a powerful thing.

 

    It already _glistens_ with arousal.

 

    "Such a pretty thing..." He drags his thumb up one side, parting the outer lips. "Ohh, you're a _treat_ , angel."

 

   "Crowley?" His thighs quiver, his hips shift forward even more. "Did... did you wish to have me?"

 

    "I have you. I have you right where I've always wanted you..." He leans in, nosing at his mons, lapping at him. "Oh... oh, and I thought you looked juicy before, now you're _really_ ready to be devoured..."

 

    Crowley takes his time, drinking in every reaction. Every tremor, every sigh, every moan, every whimper, every new and delightful scent to waft from his _aching, wanting sex_...

 

    He slides his tongue inside, finds the opening and goes as deep as he can-- which is deeper than most, he supposes, but he thinks his tongue is still best applied elsewhere-- to tracing over the folds and teasing out the clit, as he slides a couple fingers up inside, feels the way Aziraphale's body greedily welcomes him in, demands him... And the way he _keens_ , when Crowley finds the right spot to stroke over, when he sucks at that fat, eager clit... He keeps going until he feels Aziraphale clench and spasm around his fingers, jerk against his tongue-- even after, until he wrings a third orgasm from him in short order, moaning into the delightful flesh spread before him, the utter _banquet_ he makes.

 

    "D'you like this one?" He asks, laying kisses over quivering lips. "I like this one... Of course, I like them both. But this one... this one comes again and again, doesn't it?"

 

    "Yes! Oh, _Crowley, yes_!" Aziraphale cries, his head thrown back, and he's right there on the edge, all Crowley has to do is spread him open wide and he watches the way he contracts in pleasure, before he can even slide his fingers back in. "Oh... oh, Crowley, that was..."

 

    "Yeah?" He grins, leaning back at last. His face is slick, he can feel it, and Aziraphale watches him lick at his chin to catch it all and has to look away, overcome. "Good?"

 

    " _Incredible_. But... I'd assumed I was making this effort for you?"

 

    "Oh-- well-- Look, if you prefer the other way, you don't have to do this one again!"

 

    "No, I just mean-- So that you could... _take_ me. For your own satisfaction."

 

    "Oh, believe me, angel..." Crowley relaxes into a wide, easy grin. "Everything I did for you satisfied me _so_ much more than just getting off ever could. If I had it my way, I'd never stop."

 

    "Oh." Aziraphale titters behind his hand and gives another, coyer glance away. "Crowley, _really_! I should never be able to keep my opening hours!"

 

    "I wasn't aware you kept them _now_. You certainly avoided it the first sixty years you were in operation." He blinks.

 

    "Does it... does it inflame your desires, to do so?"

 

    "Yeah." He gives his own cock a meaningful glance. "That's all for you."

 

    "Then... then my dear, you must teach me about the joys of _giving_."


End file.
